


Non-Disclosure Agreement

by sal_si_puedes



Category: Suits (TV)
Genre: (I imagine a happy ending in general though), (because nothing can keep this otp apart), :D, Angst, Angstlet, M/M, Marvey Fic Challenges, angsty fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-16
Updated: 2014-11-16
Packaged: 2018-02-25 14:49:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2625728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sal_si_puedes/pseuds/sal_si_puedes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After learning that Mike is going to leave the firm and work for Sidwell, Harvey goes home alone. He receives a phone call he'd rather have avoided.</p><p>(set directly after the final scene of 3.16 (No Way Out))</p>
            </blockquote>





	Non-Disclosure Agreement

**Author's Note:**

> Written as a fill for [Challenge #13 (Non-Disclosure Agreeement)](http://marveyficchallenges.tumblr.com/post/102212977670/challenge-13-nda-non-disclosure-agreement) at [Marvey Fic Challenges](marveyficchallenges.tumblr.com).
> 
> I'm [sal-si-puedes](sal-si-puedes.tumblr.com) on tumblr.

For a minute or two Harvey toys with the idea of going to a bar after this and picking someone up for the night, but in the end he decides against it. He's too tired, but that's something he'll never admit, so he goes with he's not in the mood for talking.

He grabs his briefcase and stuffs some file folders and his laptop into it and slips into his coat before he switches the lights off in his office. He half expects some annoyed words of protest coming from the far corner of the sofa, Mike still hunched over some briefs, quietly working on some task Harvey has set him, forgotten in the darkness, but there's only silence. 

He briefly wonders if he really deserves such a vast, spacious office or if someone somewhere at some point of time has made a mistake. You could play ball games in here, he thinks, and for a second a faint smile creeps onto his lips.

Ray's already waiting for him at the curb when he exits the building and he's glad that his driver opens the door to the back seat for him. He knows how heavy that door can be and the muscles in his arms hurt from an intense workout this morning in the gym. 

He switches his phone off once he's settled in the back of the car and leans his head against the window. For the first time in years, Ray raises the privacy divider without having been asked to and Harvey doesn't even notice. The only things that do register are the cool window pane against his temple and the slight feeling of nausea that flares up a little with every lane Ray changes and every corner he turns on the short drive to Harvey's place.

When Harvey gets out of the car in front of his building and bows down to peek through the side window and to wave goodbye to Ray he wonders when it has gotten so cold. New York is chilly and has a November-y feel to it tonight. Harvey wraps his coat around himself tightly and enters the lobby quickly. He rushes past Raoul with a curt "Evening!" and a quick nod of his head and makes straight for the elevators. Once the doors have closed behind him he leans against the wall of the cabin and runs his fingers through his hair. He needs a drink.

As soon as he's inside of his apartment, he shrugs off his coat and doesn't bother with a hanger. He simply hangs it over one of the hooks inside his wardrobe, something he almost never does. He crosses the hallway and the living area quickly and sets his briefcase down onto his desk before he pours himself a drink, a triple. Slowly sitting down onto the sofa, he switches his phone back on and frowns at a couple of messages that have reached him since he's left the office. He'll deal with all of that tomorrow.

He lets the phone drop onto the sofa and leans back. The glass is heavy in his hand and the scent of the scotch makes his nose itch. The first sip tastes bitter and Harvey frowns again. This is his favorite scotch. He takes another sip and exhales slowly. It's not as good as it used to be, not as soft, not as round, not as _complete._

The sharp ring tone of his cell phone in the silence of his condo causes him to flinch and he closes his eyes for a second before he picks the phone up and glances at the display. _That goddamn woman._

Since he knows that it is much better to get this over with as quickly as possible, he accepts the call after only a couple of rings.

"Yeah."

"Harvey," the voice on the other end of the line says and pauses.

"Mother." Harvey sounds weary and he feels weary, too. He takes a deep swallow from his glass and leans forward, propping his elbows on his knees.

"How are you doing, sweetheart?"

Harvey cringes at the endearment and sips on his drink again. "Okay," he answers and clears his throat. "Good."

"What's wrong?"

 _Damn._ He sets the glass down onto the coffee table and shifts in his seat. "Nothing's wrong." His voice sounds strangely hollow, even to himself.

"Well, what happened, then?"

Just get it over with, he reminds himself. "Mike took a new job. Investment banking. He's leaving the firm in a couple of days. And Scottie is going back to London. It didn't work."

"Oh," his mother says and Harvey bites his lips. "Oh, Harvey—I'm _so_ sorry."

"It's okay," he mutters and gets up to fetch the whiskey decanter. He pours himself another drink and sits back down heavily. "Really, mother. It's okay."

"Does he know?"

"What?" Harvey lifts his glass, brings it to his lips and even tilts it but he doesn't drink. "What do you mean?"

"Did you tell him?" 

Harvey furrows his brow and sits back. "Tell him _what_?" He takes another swallow and keeps the liquid in his mouth for a little while before he swallows it down. It burns on his tongue and in his throat. "Tell _whom_ what?"

" _Mike_ ," she replies and he can hear her swallow as well. She must have made herself a drink, too.

" _What?_ " Harvey knows that he begins to sound annoyed and he tries to calm his voice, to sound as neutral as possible. He doesn't want to present a target or at least he wants to keep the one that is always there as small as possible. "About Scottie?"

"About how you feel about him."

Oh, _that_. Harvey wonders how the fuck she knows. They only talk a couple of times a year, twice maybe, three times max. How _the fuck_ does she know? He squeezes his eyes shut for a moment and swallows. The scotch is still burning in his throat and that burn brings a hoarse note to his voice when he speaks again. 

"No." He takes another tiny sip, trying to soothe the burning feeling, but it doesn't work. His body reacts with sending an extra amount of saliva into his mouth, causing him to swallow around his words again and again. "And I won't. I won't tell him that. As a matter of fact I won't tell him anything. I won't. He—He doesn't need to know." He coughs and runs his right palm over his mouth. 

"You're such an _idiot_ sometimes," his mother says after a short while. "Harvey, I think you should—"

"No," he says again, shaking his head. "No. Drop it, mother. Just— _drop_ it."

He can hear his mother inhale sharply and he knows what's coming next.

"Do you have someone to keep you company tonight? Someone to spend the night with?"

"No," he says again and, holding his glass close to his nose, he takes a deep breath. The fumes of the scotch make his eyes burn and water.

"You shouldn't be alone tonight," his mother says and he sighs. 

"Mother—"

"Someone should at least make you some hot chocolate or… Take your mind off things. You really shouldn't be alone tonight, sweetheart."

"Mother, that's enough." Harvey sits up and straightens his back. "I'm not a child anymore. I am okay."

"Of course, Harvey," she says after a second of silence. "Of course you are." Her voice has dropped to a low murmur and Harvey flinches when she clears her throat loudly at the other end of the line. "I still think you should call someone and ask them over," she continues after a short while. "Or go out and pick someone up. For the night."

"I don't want to pick someone up," Harvey says and rubs his eyes. "I'm tired, mother. I _want_ to be alone. I'm going to bed now."

"Sure, Harvey" she says, her voice suspiciously blank. "Sleep well, darling. Good night."

"Yeah," Harvey mumbles and drains the remains of his drink.

"And call me some time, okay?"

"Yeah," he repeats and disconnects the call. He leaves the decanter and the glass on the table and toes off his shoes before he rises from the couch. He takes of his jacket and walks towards the sliding doors that lead to his bedroom. He hangs his head and takes a deep breath before he pushes them open, his jacket dangling from his loose grip, the sleeves lightly brushing over the floor.

He considers just flinging the jacket onto the chaise longue but then he thinks of Mike and his messy apartment and ice-cold beer and a bag of pretzels and instead he walks over to the valet stand in the other corner and hangs his jacket there.

Without turning on the light he walks over to the bed and pulls back the covers. He lies down in his trousers, shirt and vest and he doesn't even take his tie or his socks off. He curls up on his side and pulls the covers over him, the stale taste of scotch still on his tongue. 

He doesn't get warm for the longest time and he doesn't remember falling asleep. The last thing he remembers is staring at the outlines of his jacket on the valet stand and thinking of comic books. Batman. Superman. Aquaman. 

The first half of the night he dreams of water, but he doesn't remember his dreams the next day. He dreams of drowning in a vast and endless sea and he's surprised how terrifying and at the same time pleasant and reassuring an experience that is. He's scared, yes, scared shitless, to be honest, but he also knows that he won't be disclosed like this, not ever. He knows that the sea won't betray him even though he might be in over his head. And for a while he wonders if he really deserves a sea as vast and endless as the one he finds himself in. In the end, though, he thinks that somehow it is alright. That it fits in a way. But he doesn't remember that either.

 

~fin~


End file.
